kibitionist
by Dharc Ness
Summary: A certain brown haired boy likes to show off, and a certain blonde haired boy likes to watch...
1. Chapter 1

Ugh………why did junior high school have to suck so bad.

Now, first off, I suppose I should tell you that I was a major closet case back then. Hell, I was so deep in the closet you probably wouldn't even see me in there. My best friends were the moths, and I knew each and every one by name. I was 15 and a basket case when it came to guys. I couldn't even buy porn for myself. Scared me to death to even look at the magazines in the store in case someone saw me. All I had was my right hand and my imagination, and I put both to good use whenever I could.

High School loosened me up a bit, but not very much. Every time I'd find myself beside some hunk or other, I'd turn to mush. Riding the buses to class each day was both the best and the most terrifying moments of my time there. I had my own apartment downtown where I caught the bus and the school was way out of the city limits. By the time the bus got to the school, it was standing room only.

I don't know how many times I ended up in an aisle seat with some crotch staring me in the face, or some guy jostling against my shoulder whenever the bus moved. Every day, I looked forward to the ride, and almost every day it terrified me. They sure gave me lots of material for late-night whack off fantasies, though, especially if the guy standing beside me showed a particularly full package or wore tight jeans. And if I could smell him. . . well. . .

I couldn't count how many times I walked off that bus with my books parked in front of my crotch.

So, I went through my first year of high school in a complete daze, torturing myself over and over and not getting up the guts to do a single thing about it. I mean, the school had a gay and lesbian newspaper, and they even held meetings, but I never looked at the magazine and I never attended any meetings. I was afraid someone would see me pick one up from the stack at the library or see me at the office. I was a mess back then. A basket case. Completely and totally.

My sophomore year began the same way my freshmen year had ended, with me still hiding in the closet and turning into pudding every time I found myself within arm's reach of a guy. To be honest, I don't know how I survived.

And then I saw The Guy. I didn't know his name. I don't remember seeing him before. He was just The Guy. I was in the library where I usually was at night on Friday, studying up and researching assignments. The school kept the library open until ten on Fridays, so that students have the opportunity to get some homework done before the weekend. With no friends to speak of, and even less of a social life, I immersed myself in my education. My best friends were my right hand and my favorite table at the school library.

It was usually quiet in the library at night. On the second floor. It was quiet and secluded there and I was alone for the most part.

I had my books spread out in front of me that night, going through them and making notes. I was alone at my table, sitting where I always did, with my back to the wall and facing the stacks so I could keep a cautious eye on the comings and goings. It happened when I went back to the stacks to load up on a few more books I needed.

When I came back to the table, I rounded the aisle and stopped dead in my tracks. Someone was sitting at my table! And he was sitting right across from my chair! The Guy had brown hair, a nice chocolate brown. It was pretty spiky too. His back was to me. He was sprawled out in his chair looking down at a book opened on the table in front of him. His right arm and his left elbow rested on the table, his head tilted against the curled knuckles of his left hand.

The nerve of The Guy! Sitting at my table, and right across from my spot! Talk about invading someone's space. Some people had more nerve than brains.

I collected my own nerves and headed back to my seat. I dropped my books onto the table, but The Guy didn't even look up. He just sat there, reading. His hair was just as spiky from the front as it was from behind, and he had red triangular marks going down the sides of both his cheeks, I don't know what was up with that. He wore an all black hoodie vest with nothing underneath, that was zipped down to just below mid-chest and I could see freckles on the untanned, light milk chocolate skin there.

He wasn't bad looking, and with those red marks on his face, somehow, they made him look kinda cute, and a little primal as well. All in all, he wasn't unpleasant to look at, and he had an interesting aroma, similar to the way soil smells right before it rains. It was pretty nice. I sat down and turned my attention to my books. My feet ran into his as I settled into my seat. He'd stretched himself across the floor under the table. He didn't look up or anything. He just pulled his legs back as I settled into position. I should have packed up and moved somewhere else, but this was my spot and this was where I wanted to be. As soon as I was comfortable, his legs stretched out again, nudging against my feet, returning to their earlier spot, but between my legs now. I instinctively moved my one foot aside to make room for him. He didn't even apologize or acknowledge my presence.

I had a toothache like him once. The dentist pulled it!

I tried to forget about him and got back to my work. As I sat there reading, making notes, and trying to decide where to go for dinner; an outside eatery called Ichiraku's for some ramen or to a great indoor restaurant named Shushuya for barbeque, he sat there, unmoving. Until The Guy's right hand turned the page and he continued reading. This time, though, his right hand dropped beneath the table.

The best part about the library, my favorite thing about 'my spot', was that it was quiet and peaceful. It was so quiet, in fact, that I could hear the distinctive sound of a zipper being pulled down.

I tilted my eyes up, looking at him from under my blonde eyebrows. He was still staring down at his book. I didn't even know what color his eyes were. Nothing moved accept his right arm, and I wasn't sure what he was doing. He squirmed in his chair once and then stopped moving again - except his right arm. It wasn't moving, really, but I could see his biceps working. Expanding and contracting in a regular rhythm. It took me a moment to catch on.

Son of a bitch! The Guy was jerking off! Right there in the library! Right there at my table! He was jerking off! Right in front of me!

My books, notes, and dinner plans were forgotten as my head tilted up to look at him. I couldn't see what he was doing. It was all hidden under the table. But I could tell. I looked at him. I so wanted to bend down and see for myself, but I was petrified, in more ways than one. As discreetly as I could, I moved my right hand into my crotch and tried to shift myself around a bit so it was less painful. I couldn't manage it and had to shove my hand down the front of my pants to do it instead. All the time, I sat there looking at The Guy.

And then his eyes turned up toward me. They were incredibly dark brown, almost black under his dark eyebrows. I pulled my hand out of my pants and returned it to the table. He stared at me for a moment, then one corner of his mouth curled up and opened ever-so-slightly, just enough for me to see a single sharp canine and he winked. His attention returned to his book, but his arm never stopped working.

I looked quickly around the library. Only one other person was there that I was aware of. Some guy, pretty tall with long, dark, scraggly hair tied back. A blue kerchief was tied around his left arm. His jeans and denim jacket looked wrinkled and unkempt. Like he was to lazy to iron his clothes or dress himself properly this morning.

I went back to looking at The Guy. He was much prettier.

I could hear The Guy now. Not a slapping sound, but the popping sound you hear when you're masturbating and a drop of pre-cum gathers in the tiny slit at the tip of your cock and snaps like a tiny bubble every time you stroke the head. The snapping sound matched the contractions and expansions of his biceps.

His rhythm was steady and continuous. He was in no hurry. His opened vest was moving, giving me quick peeks of one small arc of his right nipple with each stroke of his arm. As I watched his chest, his right arm suddenly appeared above the table. I looked up into his face and met his gaze. He looked at me as his right hand zipped down his vest a few inches and then, as his eyes returned to his book, his arm disappeared under the table again and began stroking once more. The popping sound was louder now and his vest opened enough to show me regular peeks of his entire right nipple with each stroke of his arm.

I was lost in the moment by then. I couldn't have moved if I wanted to. All I could do was look at him. He continued to stroke for about a minute longer when I saw the Lazy Dude round the stacks to my right and head for the table. He had one book open in his hands and was reading as he walked. The title on the cover read: "The Advanced Guide to Cloud Watching".

I quietly cleared my throat and The Guy looked up at me. I jerked my head to the right a smidgen. His arm never stopped working. "Staff?" he whispered. I shook my head 'no'. "Male?" I nodded. He just gave me that toothy 'corner-of-the-mouth' smile again and went back to reading and masturbating.

The Lazy Dude stopped at the end of the table and dropped his book on it. He pulled out the chair and looked at me and The Guy as he got ready to sit down. He stopped when he saw The Guy, then bent down and looked under the table. He slammed his chair back into place as he stood up again, grabbed up his book, and turned to leave. "The hell!" he said. "What a drag, it's to late at night for this….!"

And then he was gone.

The Guy looked up at me again and, this time, both corners of his mouth curled up into a smile. He nodded slightly one time and winked and went back to reading. His arm began working more furiously now. I guess he knew I would keep watch for either staff or females for him.

He hit my foot again as he uncrossed his legs and pulled them toward him. I looked down and his feet appeared from under the narrow table on either side of my own feet. I looked back up into his face. He sucked in a deep breath through his nose and let it out again. I could hear his hand moving on his cock now. He wasn't just playing with himself anymore. He was doing some serious jerking off and he was going to make himself shoot and I was going to be there to witness it all.

More than his biceps was working now. His whole arm was moving and his upper body was twitching and jerking with it. His eyebrows curled down and small furrows appeared in his forehead. He sucked in another deep breath and his lips opened a bit, showing me the tips of his white teeth. A long, quiet groan sounded from them.

The slapping and popping sounds became louder and faster as he stroked harder and faster. His vest was open now, his nipple fully displayed. It was protruding and as hard and pointed as the cock between my legs.

His head tilted up then and his eyes found mine. They were squinted, but they stayed locked on mine. He was sucking air through his mouth now. His lips were opened wider and his teeth were clenched. His entire body began to bounce as his right hand pumped his cock out of sight beneath the table. The Guy's groans turned to whimpering moans as his face started to flush, matching the red marks on his cheeks.

His eyes closed as his mouth dropped open and, with a long, extended moan, he came. I saw it all happen on his face. His brow crinkled and his eyes clenched themselves shut and his lips pulled themselves tight once more. His stoking arm slowed, but his biceps bulged now, and I could only imagine the grip he had on himself.

The moan ended and turned into a series of soft grunts. His chest heaved in and out

His mouth finally dropped open again as he released a final, deep sigh of pleasure. His eyes relaxed and his brow unfurled. The Guy continued stroking, but it was only to squeeze the remaining droplets of semen from his cock. His grip was much more gentle by then.

His eyes opened and found my gaze again, blue eyes met brown as I watched as he brought his right hand up from beneath the table and he licked away the stray puddles of man cream there as his body and breathing returned to normal. The pungent smell of semen wafted up to my nose.

The Guy continued staring into my eyes as he finished cleaning off his hand and then both hands disappeared beneath the table and I could hear the zipper being pulled up again. I could see by his movements that he did up the button on the waistband. And then he sat up straight in his chair and pulled his legs away from me. He closed the book and stood up.

"Thanks," he said. His voice was like music, but somehow animalistic, and there was a very grateful tone to it. He smiled again, winked, and then he turned and walked away.

It was only after I saw his back disappear around the stacks at the other end of the room that I pushed my chair back and looked under the table.


	2. Chapter 2

It had been almost two weeks since that day in the library when The Guy jerked off in front of me. The image of what I saw under the table when I looked is still burned indelibly in my mind. The pools of cum puddled in the carpet and I even found stray splatters on my pants leg and one shoe. More of the milky stuff dangled down from beneath the table where it had splashed and now hung there like miniature stalactites in some unexplored cavern.

I caught a large drop of it on my finger and brought it out into the light and looked at it. I still had an erection, and looking at the fresh semen did nothing to help ease it. I brought it close to my nose and sniffed it, and the smell was heavenly. I couldn't believe it. For the first time in my life, I was touching and smelling the juices from the most secret parts of a man's body other than my own.

I couldn't resist temptation and my tongue slipped between my lips and licked away the fluid I had gathered on the end of my finger. I drew the cum into my mouth and, for the first time in my life, tasted another man's semen. My cock exploded. I had my first orgasm as a direct result of another human male.

There is a bathroom on that floor of the library that I use all the time. It's small and has only two urinals and one stall, but hardly anyone goes there, which is great for piss-shy people like me. Only twice since I began high school have I encountered another guy in that room. I made my way there after my orgasm finished, went into the stall, and took off my pants and underwear, then put my pants back on. I rinsed out my underwear in the sink, wrung it out, then took it back to the table and stuffed it into my book bag.

I started looking for The Guy the very next morning. I watched the crowds of students, looking for anyone with red facial marks. That should have narrowed it down drastically but I didn't see him. Every day, I went back to my table in the library, even during lunch, and waited, hoping he would come back. He didn't. And every night I would go home and masturbate as I reran that session in my mind.

Was he a figment of my imagination? Had I dreamt the whole thing? No, I hadn't. The dry cum was still underneath the table. I hadn't imagined it. So, where was he? A guy with red triangular facial marks would stand out like a grizzly bear in a field of snow. But there was no sign of him. I was beginning to wonder if he even attended the high school. Many non-students use the school library, so it wouldn't have been unheard of.

I continued looking for him, though. Still, there was no sign of him. My memories of him were still strong, but I stopped looking for him by the middle of October. It had happened, but it would never happen again. At least, that's what I thought.

I was alone at my table on another Friday night. The only other person up there with me, a girl with long bubble gum pink hair who was in the same Gym class as me sat at another table entirely. Outside of class she's a really nice person and someone I wouldn't mind becoming friends with; but after an incident were she punched a guy so hard that his body made a dent into a wall, after he called her "billboard brow", I kind of stood clear of her.

After about an hour or so she left. So, for the most part, I was alone.

It was a few minutes after eight when I headed off to the bathroom. I stood at the urinal instead of going into the stall. I hadn't seen another person for over an hour, so I felt pretty safe using the urinal without someone walking in on me and catching a peek. Even then, it took a minute or so to get things flowing.

I finished pissing and was squeezing out the last drops before giving it a final shake when the door opened and someone came in. My eyes locked on the tiles in front of me and I rushed to get myself back in my pants as fast as I could. The boy stepped up to the urinal to my left. I heard the zipper opening as I stuffed my dick back in my underwear, and then he leaned forward a bit to extract his own dick from its confines.

I saw a flash of red!

My hands froze and my eyes moved all by themselves. I had no control over them. There was The Guy, standing shoulder to shoulder with me at the urinals. He was looking straight ahead as he stood straight up again. A moment later, I could hear the first splashes of his piss hitting the porcelain. Like I said, I had lost all control. My head turned slightly and my eyes moved down. He was holding his cock with his left hand, so I could see the head and a bit of shaft. The head was beautifully shaped, nice and round and purplish in color. The rim flared into an incredible helmet. It looked about the size of a small walnut. I caught a gimps of a circumcision ring.

So that's one thing we have in common I thought to myself.

The Guy was not shy about pissing in front of me, and he must have been holding it for a long time. He kept pissing and pissing. His fingers suddenly squeezed his shaft, stopping the flow. A few drops fell from the tip into the bowl, and then he released his grip and the piss shot out again and hit the back with a loud splash. Again he squeezed off the flow and again he torpedoed the porcelain. A third time, and then a fourth. And each time he did it, his cock grew a bit, the head becoming larger and more flared. The shaft thickened and extended. More of his cock came into view. After the fourth squeeze, he let the remainder flow until he was drained.

He began to stroke out the final drops, but it quickly became apparent that it wasn't his only intention. His cock became longer and thicker as he leaned away from the urinal. It expanded with each stroke of his fingers until it was solid and standing straight out from his body, pointing upward at a slight angle.

His hands moved away from his cock and pushed at the waistband of his underwear until his balls came into view and he tucked the elastic beneath them. His left hand moved to the flush handle and he pulled down on it. The rush of water sounded in the small room, but his hand remained on the handle, leaving his cock completely exposed to my view.

For the first time in my life, I was looking at a real cock, hard and ready for action, and it was perfectly gorgeous. The head was now about the size of a small egg. The shaft about as thick as a toilet paper tube and at least half again as long. It was smooth and slightly veined, I could see the bluish tinge of the blood vessels beneath his milky skin.

I glanced quickly at his face. He was still staring straight ahead, so my eyes returned to his cock. And so did his hand. This time, his fingers and thumb wrapped around it and he began to stroke himself.

In a rush I finished tucking myself away before my own hard-on got too big to manage and pulled up the zipper. My hand slammed down on the flush handle and I turned away from him, about to head for the door.

"Please," The Guy said. "Don't leave."

I stopped and turned back to him. He was looking at me.

"Don't go."

He stood there looking at me as his hand slid up and down his cock. I could only look at his adorable face for so long before my head tilted down and my eyes found his crotch again. When I saw it, his wonderful cock swelled and a soft moan came out of his throat. The Guy wanted to be seen. He was showing off for me. I turned back to face him and his body turned toward me and he faced me full on as he stroked his meat.

Impulsively, my hand reached out toward it. Immediately, The Guy stopped stroking and stepped back. His right hand pulled his cock flat against his stomach and his left hand came forward and covered himself, keeping his cock away from me.

"Don't touch me," he warned. His face contorted into a sneer showing his curiously sharp teeth. "If you touch me, I'll leave."

I yanked my hand away. The last thing I wanted him to do was to leave. I didn't move away, but I didn't do anything else, either, except stare at his crotch.

A few seconds later, when he was certain I wasn't going to touch him, The Guy moved his left hand to his balls and his right took up its stroking once more. He wasn't in any hurry. He simply jerked off slowly and leisurely.

It didn't dawn on me at the time that he was whacking away while we were standing little more than an arm's length away from the door. Anyone could have walked in and seen him standing there, and there would be no way to hide what he was doing. Even worse, it didn't dawn on me until later that night that I realized that, had anyone walked in on us, they would have seen me standing there, staring at the chocolate-haired hunk in front of me.

At that moment, though, I didn't even think about that. I was seeing a boy and I was seeing balls and I was watching him masturbate. It was the only sex I'd ever had, such as it was, and I wasn't going to sit out on it.

The Guy cupped his balls in his hand, squeezing them carefully and gently for a few seconds, and then he released them and raised his hand to his nose and inhaled. He moaned for the second time. Soon enough, though, his hand was back on his nuts, the fingers cradling them and his index finger scratching at them and drawing patterns on them with his fingernail.

He continued to tease his nuts as his other hand traveled up and down his cock shaft from the swollen cockhead rim to the base. A mat of dark hair surrounded the base of his cock. The Guy was all natural. He stroked his cock for several long, enjoyable minutes, and I watched. And then his hand stopped. He leaned forward slightly, hunching his upper body and looking down at his cock. His mouth opened a bit and his bottom lip drooped down and his tongue appeared, pushing a huge glob of saliva to his lip. The spit gathered on his lower lip and hung there as he moved himself into position, and then it started to drop. Down it stretched, closer and closer to his cockhead, still attached to his lip with a long thick string of saliva. Lower and lower it dropped and the string drew thinner and thinner, and suddenly it snapped and the ball of spit fell squarely on the waiting cockhead.

The Guy moved his hand to the head of his cock, the fingers rubbing the saliva over it. The hand moved away again as a second mouthful of spit landed there as well. This time, the hand wrapped around the head and began to twist it, sliding over the smooth, purplish skin, then letting it go, returning to its original position, and twisting again. He did this over and over again, twisting and squeezing and teasing him to greater heights of ecstasy. A groan escaped my throat this time.

When the spit was rubbed in and his hand no-longer slid over the flesh, he moved his hand back to the shaft and began some serious stroking. The familiar popping sound began.

His intent was clear now. He was stroking to make himself cum. His tireless hand took up an ever-quickening rhythm along his shaft. His chest started to heave beneath the white T-shirt he wore, his nipples poking out the cotton material into tiny, round pyramids.

The popping sound became more pronounced and a soft slapping sound could now be heard as he beat his meat. Faster and faster his hand moved. I looked up into his face. His eyes were narrowed now and his mouth still drooped open, but his gaze was locked on my face as he looked at me watching him jerk off. This was his thrill. This is why he did it. He liked to have someone watching him jerk off, and, for some reason, he had picked me to be his audience.

My eyes moved back down to his crotch again. He was nice to look at, but the display at his crotch was nicer. He began some serious pounding now. His whole arm moving with only one purpose. His fingers held his cock in a death grip, squeezing so hard that his knuckles were white. His mouth opened giving me a view of all four of his unusually sharp canines. All the while his moans and groans became louder.

Faster his hand moved and the piss slit opened up. The popping sound stopped as his cockhead began to swell, pulsating like a breathing bag. His body turned slightly, his hips almost aimed at the door now. I had a sideways view of him. His left hand squeezed his balls in tempo with his stroking right hand and the sounds of him sucking in breath joined the other sounds bouncing off the tiles in the room.

And then it happened.

The first shot of cum flew out of his cock, arching high and far, falling to the tiled floor and exploding on contact. A second and third stream followed. He caught the fourth and fifth jets of jizz with his left hand and moved it quickly to his mouth, licking it away as more cum poured from his cock. Two more weaker shots followed before the semen began to flow out instead of shoot out, falling in a puddle at his feet.

I watched in total fascination, witnessing for the first time in my life another man's orgasm, and for the second time, I was cumming in my own jeans without once having touched myself.

It seemed an eternity before his cum stopped flowing and his cock twitched to push out the last drops of manly fluid onto the floor. The Guy continued stroking gently after that until his cock became soft. With a final sigh of pleasure, he hooked his thumb into his underwear and pulled it out and up, tucking his jewels securely back into their vault.

He zipped up his jeans and hooked the button, and then he looked at me and said, "Thanks." Without another word, he headed for the door.

"Wait!" I said. "Please! Who are you? How do I find you?"

He stopped with his hand on the door handle. Then his head turned toward me and he smiled. "I'm your friend," he said, "and don't try to find me. You won't." And then he gave me a toothy grin. "But I'll find you."

He turned back to the door, pulled it open, and left me alone.

I stood there, staring at the closed door for several minutes, imagining my new friend as he walked through the library and into the night. He would find me. I knew this would not be the last time we did this together.

I rushed to the stall and locked the door behind me, pulling off my jeans and underwear and putting my jeans back on. I took my briefs back out and turned on the taps in one of the sinks and then I looked at the flowing water for a few moments. I looked down at the cum-soaked underwear in my hand and turned off the faucets.

I took my underwear back to the spot on the floor where all The Guy's cum lay and I bent down and wiped it all up. I stuffed my underwear into a side pocket of my book bag, threw the bag over my shoulder, and then I headed for home. . . and my bed.


	3. Chapter 3

A river runs past the back of the apartment complex were I was living at the time. Across the road, upstream a ways, was a public park with a swimming area, slides, swings, and such. A two-lane, concrete bridge crossed the river there.

Further upstream, past the park, was the high school, and the river divided the school from the gym and football field. A concrete footbridge joined the school to the field for the students. The river was a nice place to sit and read. Wide and gently flowing there. I would often sit on the stone wall bank, dangling my feet over the side and read while waiting for the rowing teams to pass during their many practices. On particularly hot days the guys would usually be shirtless, and with the sweat glistening on their bodies it makes for a great view. Next to my spot in the library, this was my favorite spot at school. It was quiet and away from the normal foot traffic and I could be alone.

The lawn behind me was dotted with groups of people or couples, either eating their lunches or just hanging around outside. Beyond the lawn was a separate building that housed the gym and right behind that was the track and football field.

I'd stopped looking for The Guy. I didn't search out his red marks anymore. He'd told me I wouldn't find him anyway, so I simply stopped looking. I was sitting there, my feet dangling near the passing river, when The Guy sat down beside me, just to my left. I noticed he stayed far enough away that I would have to lean and stretch in order to touch him.

He wore a white tank top this time with tan shorts and black flip-flops. He didn't say anything. He simply sat there, leaning back on his arms, looking out over the river and letting me look at him. After the last time in the bathroom, I didn't see any sense in being discrete anymore. He wanted me to look, so I looked.

A cool breeze started to blow off the river, and it was then that I realized how incredibly beautiful he looked just sitting there, with his spiky hair blowing in the wind and the sunlight illuminating those enthralling marks on his cheeks. The way his toes curled as he swung his legs back and forth, and how his skin seemed to glow in the light making the darkness of his brown eyes more pronounced. I stroked my hand through my blonde hair to keep it out of my eyes as I sat there admiring the nameless boy, and wondering why someone so captivating would choose me as his spectator.

I sighed softly as I continued to drink in the sight before me. I knew it wasn't long before lunch would be over, but right here right now, time seemed irrelevant. I felt as though I had all the time in the world to be here next to him. That the only things the mattered was this moment. Me and him. Not school, responsibilities, or even those hunky guys on the rowing team. Just me and the boy with the chocolate hair.

After a while the show began to start. It began with a swelling in his shorts. He was getting a hardon as he sat there and he wasn't using anything except his mind to cause it. The swelling turned into a tube which began to push out along the left leg of his shorts, getting closer and closer to the opening. Either he was wearing loose boxer shorts underneath the tan shorts, or he wore no underwear at all. I silently hoped it was the latter.

At a slow and steady pace, his cock grew longer and thicker and the head began to peek out of the leg opening. Still it grew longer and thicker until it was trapped against his thigh and dangling out over the river between his spread legs. I guessed that about half of his cock protruded from his shorts.

He didn't look at me and he didn't say anything. He sat there, watching the cars pass by on the road across the river and watching the bikers riding their bicycles along the scenic road. He watched the other students walking over the footbridge to our right and, occasionally, he looked behind him in reaction to some sudden laughter.

He knew I was there. That's why he was sitting there. That's why his cock was sticking out of his shorts. That's why it was as hard as a rock. Oh, yes. He knew.

"O…oh my," came a soft voice from some where to my left.

I turned my head and found myself looking at a girl with stormy grey eyes and short lavender hair with long bangs going down both sides of her face, which was by the way a deep shade of red.

Now I was wondering whether her face was red from what she was seeing or if it was from the heat. I was surprised she hadn't died from heat stroke from what she was wearing. Which was a some sort of white winter coat, even though it did seem a little loose on her I still couldn't imagine wearing a coat in this heat. The rest of her outfit consisted of denim pants going down to just above her ankles and blue sandals.

"What is it?" came a voice close to where she was standing. The only other person close to her was a guy standing a few feet away from where she was standing, but I didn't know whether he said something or not for the fact that I couldn't see his mouth. Even though he was looking at the field in the opposite direction from where she was looking that wasn't the reason I couldn't see his mouth, it was his outfit.

This boy didn't seemed dressed for a sunny day either. He had pale skin with brown hair that stuck up it all directions. His hot death trap was a grey button up jacket with a unusually large collar turned all the way up covering the lower half of his face, just above his nose. With long black cargo pants going down to his black and white converse high-tops The only thing that he did wear that seemed appropriate for this sunny weather was a pair of dark black sunglasses.

"Um…um," the girl said as she half hid her face with her hands.

"Hm?", the boy responded as he turned to look at her, now noticing her condition for the first time. He walked over to where she was standing, with his hands in his jacket pockets. He looked at her eyes then followed her gaze to where she was looking and his eyes stopped right on the halve protruding cock sticking out of the guys shorts.

I quickly looked at The Guy thinking he was going to tuck his cock back into his pants or get up and walk away. But if the additional on lookers were bothering him he didn't show it. He just continued to look at the scenery in front of him his cock still as long and hard as ever. I think I even saw his mouth curl into a slight smile.

Maybe I'm not the only person the guy likes to have watch him, I thought to myself. Thinking that depressed me a little.

"What's the problem?", a voice said behind me. I turned around again to see the boy with the shades facing the girl who's face was still just as red.

"Well…um you see it's just that…he uh…," was her response.

"I'm still not seeing what's wrong", he said. "It's a very simple bodily function for men. Involving a rise of hormones and the increase of blood flow to the pe-"

" No", she suddenly responded in a slightly louder voice. "I…I mean aren't you…aren't you, you know surprised?"

"Not in the least. If you've ever been inside the boys locker room then you've seen enough penis' to last you a life time"

After hearing this she instantly turned an even deeper shaded of red. I thought she was going to pass out, but instead she faced The Guy and me and said, "Excuse me, sorry to have bothered you", in the tiniest of voices. Turned and ran down the across the field leaving the other boy still standing there, her hair flying behind her.

"Hmm", the boy said as he watched her run in the direction of a large brick building with a dome shaped roof, "I wonder why she's heading toward the gym?" And with that he slowly walked off in the same direction, not even once swatting away the gnats that began to fly around his head.

After our little interruption I continued to sit there, rather impatiently, waiting for something to happen. For almost fifteen minutes he didn't move. He hadn't touched himself and I was beginning to wonder if he was even planning on jerking off. And then another gentle river breeze blew past me, on its way downstream to my right, and I saw it.

A large glob of pre-cum dangled from the tip of his cock, hanging down, stretching toward the river below. I watched in fascination, waiting for it to break away and fall, but it didn't. It hung there like a raindrop frozen in mid air, swaying gently in the breeze.

His cock grew slightly longer and the shaft and head swelled a bit and another drop of pre-cum gathered at the slit and started to travel down the thread of viscous juice, on its way to joining its counterpart. It didn't reach the bottom. The two drops became too much weight and the thread attaching them to The Guy suddenly broke and the drops tumbled over and over each other until they hit the river below.

I looked at The Guy's face and the corner of his mouth pulled up once again into the tiniest of smiles. "Watch," he said.

I did. My eyes returned to his cock, locking on it, fearful of missing a single moment of the action.

As I watched, it began to swell and elongate again, and then to relax. Over and over. Each time The Guy contracted his muscles, it would grow larger. It took me a few moments to understand what was happening, and it suddenly came to me.

The Guy was masturbating without touching himself. Only muscle control and his cock rubbing against his leg. I glanced quickly at his face. His eyes closed, his face turned to the sunny skies above.

He was working harder and faster now, his cockhead stroking up and down his thigh, the black hairs there tickling him. Globs of pre-cum gathered and dropped to the river as he squeezed himself closer to orgasm.

Three times his cock swelled dangerously and stayed swollen for several long seconds. His face was creased in effort as he fought against the climax. After the third time, after he'd regained control of himself again, he said quietly, "This time."

My eyes locked on his cock again. The Guy started working it again, with intent now. Faster and harder he clenched his muscles, pushing his cockhead along his leg. It was swelling larger now and the pre-cum was flowing freely from it.

A soft groan came to my ear and I glanced quickly at The Guy. His eyes were clenched now and he bit his lower lip, his canine came close to piercing his flesh. My eyes moved back to his cock in time to see the first jet of cum blast from his cock and shoot out into the river. And then another, and another. I was counting.

Five. Six. Seven. Each shot was just as full and as far-reaching as the previous four. The guy let out a small grunt with each spurt.

Eight. Nine. Ten. Less volume and less intense. The Guy groaned again.

Eleven. Twelve. Oozing remnants which dripped from his cockhead and dropped straight into the river.

Thirteen. One prolonged gathering of what cum he had left in him. It collected itself in slow motion, stretching lower and lower between his legs and, with a final sigh, fell away and was washed downstream with the rest.

He stayed there, allowing himself to relax and waiting for his cock to soften and shrink back into his shorts. Only after it had hidden itself away completely did The Guy sit up, look at me, and smile.

"Pretty neat, huh?" he said, and he winked. "Later, dude," he said. He stood up and walked away.


	4. Chapter 4

With not having many friends to speak of (well actually non to speak of) my Saturdays start to get pretty boring pretty fast. Since I finish the majority of my homework in the library on Friday nights the only thing to do to pass the time is hitting the mall.

There's a stairway at the mall where I like to eat my lunch when I buy it at the food court. I don't know why it's there. Hardly anyone uses it. But I like it. It's shady there in the afternoon and I can look out over the gardens and grass and the river beyond. Except for the cars or yapping people passing by at the bottom, I'm pretty-much left alone.

That's where The Guy found me that afternoon. I don't know how. It's like he has this radar or something tuned in on my location. I was sitting in my favorite spot, six steps up from the bottom on the left-hand side going up. Four more steps went up to the door. I was leaning against the concrete wall, happily munching my burger and dipping my fries into the ketchup from one of those plastic squeezy packets.

He came at me from the bottom and sat on the other side, one step below me. He wore loose, grey, cut-off track pants that day. A narrow, blue band down the sides. I could see his cock moving in them. No underwear.

Before he sat, he smiled at me and said, "Hi." I nodded my greeting. He settled himself with his left leg bent at the knee, his foot on the step below. His right leg was stretched out in front of him. He wasted no time getting started.

As soon as he was settled into place, his right hand pulled up the leg of his shorts and his thickening cock was in his hand and he began to stroke it.

"What's your name?" I asked.

He smiled that toothy grin. "It's a secret."

I screwed up my courage and asked, "Why me?"

He looked at me, still smiling as he continued playing with his cock. His balls hung out of the leg of the shorts as well. "I like you," he said. Then he winked and added, "You turn me on."

"I turn you on?"

"Yeah, there's something about you. I dunno, maybe it could be the way you dress, how your always by yourself, or I guess your personality"

"Personality?"

"It seems to me that you're more the submissive type. You don't seem like a guy that likes to dominate or be in control, you like to sit back and enjoy other people being in control and setting the limits. Ergo what you and I have been doing, and I like it."

"Why won't you let me touch it, then?"

"Sorry. That would be breaking the rules."

"Is there a rule that will let me touch it sometime in the future?"

The Guy merely shrugged his shoulder.

He was talking. He was answering my questions. That was good.

"What if I was tired of just watching you?" I asked. "What if I wanted to do more than that? What if I just got up and walked away?"

He shrugged again. His cock was fully hard now and he was jerking off as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"You wouldn't do that," he said. "You like this too much. Besides, it wouldn't matter where you go. I'd find a way to do it."

Wow, I didn't think I meant that much to him. Or at least turned him on that much.

He leaned his head back against the concrete and looked at me. People and cars were passing by at the bottom of the steps, but he paid them no mind. His bent leg hid himself from their view.

My mind was flooded with the possibilities of his suggestion - that he'd find a way to do it anywhere. Under the table in the food court. In aisle three at the local supermarket. In the back seat of a transit bus. On a Ferris wheel that broke down and happened to stop at the top. . . .

A moan came from The Guy suddenly and my mind returned to him. He was stroking faster now, but he wasn't looking at me. He was looking behind me. I turned my head and saw a pair of legs. I looked up to see a hand squeezing a khaki-covered crotch, then on up to see his bare stomach. At first I thought he wasn't wearing a shirt, but then it dawned on me that he was wearing a shirt. A short-sleeved shirt, that had apparently been cut-off to just above his stomach reveling his toned mid-drift. I continued to look up into the face of a young man about my age, maybe a little older. He was standing there, holding a plastic shopping bag in his hand, according to the label on the front it was filled with art supplies. But the thing that ticked me off was that he was staring at My Guy!

"Oh, yeah," My Guy said.

The New Guy continued to stand there staring intently with the most composed look on his face. As if the sight a cute guy jacking off outside was extremely interesting to him.

"That is a very nice penis you have there," New Guy said.

"Um, thanks," My Guy said.

"Is your penis nice also," The New Guy turned to me and asked. "I bet it's not."

"Well I …I it's um…," I stammered.

As the sounds of moaning from My Guy became louder my attention was brought back to him. He was jerking off furiously now. Pre-cum flowed from his cock, flying in all directions. I could actually hear him stroking himself, and the tip snapped as bubbles broke with every stroke.

"Oh, yeah," he repeated. "This one is going to be good."

My Guy was oblivious now to everything except his need to cum, and the two guys watching him get there. His left leg dropped to the steps and spread as wide as they could. His left hand moved to his balls as his fist started moving faster and harder.

"Shit, yeah!" he groaned loudly. "This is it!"

He started shooting, his cum splattering his T-shirt and face and hair. More of it fell to his shorts and legs and arms. Even more splattered against the concrete steps and railings.

My Guy was more excited than I'd ever seen him before. Double the audience, double the fun. It was the first time I heard him moaning out loud.

"Hmm," said New Guy behind me. Which I thought was a odd thing to say at a time like this. But I glanced quickly at him. He was slowly squeezing his hard cock in his black pants and a large wet spot appeared at the head. The guy creamed his jeans!

My Guy finished his orgasm. His left leg came up again as he teased the last drops of cum from his cock, letting it drip down onto his shorts. He looked at me. The marks on his face was streaked with cum and more of it sparkled in his hair.

The New Guys face didn't change one bit or show even a flicker of emotion as he slowly walked down the stairs, saying something about having to capture this moment on paper. He soon disappeared around the corner, holding the bag in front of him.

My Guy pulled the leg of his shorts down over his still-stiffened cock and stood up. It poked out his shorts in a long tube. Cum dripped down his face and was splattered all over his T-shirt. He made no attempt to wipe it off.

"Thanks," he said, with that gorgeous smile.

And then he turned around and walked down the steps and disappeared in the opposite direction that New Guy had taken.

That's when I squeezed my own cock and flooded my shorts with my own cream.


	5. Chapter 5

The last thing I expected when I went to watch Daniel Radcliffe, Rupert Grint, and Emma Watson play Harry, Ron, and Hermione in the latest "Harry Potter" Movie was to sit there watching My Guy jerking off for two and a half hours. He was 'My Guy' now. Not 'The Guy'.

There weren't many people in the theatre. Maybe a quarter of the seats were full. Fortunately, most of the younger kids were up front near the screen. That left most of the back half empty and I would be able to watch the movie in relative comfort and silence.

My Guy showed up just after the opening credits began to roll. He came right to me and sat down beside me to my left. Being right-handed, I suppose that offered me the best viewing angle. He said, "Hi."

"Hi," I responded.

Without another word, he kicked off his shoes as he unbuttoned his shirt. For the first time, I saw his entire chest, and I wasn't disappointed. That day in the library, I'd seen only one nipple. Now, it lay bare to me. It wasn't spectacular, or heavily-muscled, and he didn't have a washboard stomach or 6-pack abs or anything, but it was very nice to look at. Smooth, hairless, and nicely defined and rather pale even in the dim theatre lighting.

He unbuttoned his shorts, slid the zipper down, then hooked his thumbs into the waistband. With his hips raised off the seat, he pushed both the shorts and the underwear down his thighs to his knees. He settled his butt in the seat before pushing the shorts lower until he slipped them off his feet. I frantically looked around me.

"Don't worry," he whispered. "I know the usher. For ten bucks, he leaves me alone. Just relax and enjoy the show."

I settled back into my seat and he held out his shorts to me as his right hand wrapped around his cock and began to stroke it. "Here," he said. "Want to hold these for me?"

My heart was pounding as I reached out my hand and took his shorts and laid them on my lap. I didn't even know I was doing it, and I didn't even know that I had opened his shorts to reveal the underwear briefs inside. My fingertips went to the material and I could still feel the heat from his body there. Without thinking, I grasped the waistband and lifted the briefs out of the shorts and turned them around until the stretched pouch of the crotch was facing me.

I was alone in the theatre. There was no-one around me. Everyone and everything had disappeared except for the light pair of briefs I held in my hands. I started at them for a long time, and then my eyes closed and my hands brought the soft material to my face. I inhaled through my nose and I moaned. I held the underwear there with my left hand as my right hand plunged into my shorts to move my straining cock into a more comfortable, upright position.

I inhaled again and moaned again. A voice came from my left.

"That's so cool," it said. "And so freakin' hot."

I snapped to awareness, pulling the underwear from my face and my hand from my cock.

"Oh, shit!" I groaned softly. "I'm sorry! I mean. . ."

I held his underwear out to him.

"Relax," he said as he smiled at me. "I would have been disappointed if you hadn't done that. You've got me dripping all over the place." He reached out with his left hand. "Here," he said, "let me really smell 'em up for ya."

The movie was long forgotten now. I watched intently as My Guy took his underwear from me and placed the crotch over his magnificent, upright cock and wrapped his hand around it. He took several long, slow strokes from base to head and a dark, moist stain began to spread around the tip. He sped up his strokes for a minute and slowed again, squeezing the pre-cum out of the tip. Again and again he repeated this until the large stain was glistening even in the flickering lights from the screen in front of us.

My Guy stopped stroking and lifted the briefs away from his cock and held them out to me. "Here," he said. "Try this."

I took the briefs from him, opened them and pressed the inside of the crotch to my face. I could smell his cock there and I could feel the moisture of his lube against my lips. Without thinking, my tongue came out and tasted him. It was delicious and I lapped up more of it. It has a strangely earthy flavor that I found irresistible.

"You're licking it, aren't you?"

"Yes," I moaned in reply.

"Want more?"

"Oh, God, yes!"

I anxiously held out the briefs to him, but he ignored it and stroked his cock until another large droplet of juice appeared at the tip and began to flow down his cockhead. He held the base with his left hand and gathered the liquid on the index finger of his right hand and held it out to me. I leaned forward and sucked the finger into my mouth. My eyes closed as I savored the flavor of him. It was several moments later that I realized I was sucking on his finger and I pulled back.

My Guy was smiling at me. "You are just too cool," he said.

"Please," I replied. "I need to touch it."

His right hand dropped to protect himself and his expression changed. "Soon," was all he said to me. Then, "Maybe."

I laid his briefs across his thigh and leaned back into my seat. He picked up the underwear and held it to me. "Would you like to keep them?" he asked.

I could only nod.

"Would you like me to fill it up again?"

"Please," I said softly.

He placed the material over his cock again, wrapped his left hand around it, and began stroking in earnest. Again, the moist stain spread over the cockhead, soaking through it and turning the material dark. His left hand moved to his balls, playing with them as he jerked himself with the other.

He was no-longer merely stroking himself. He was jerking off now, his fist moving up and down the cotton-covered shaft with intent. His breathing became faster and deeper and his chest rose and fell with every breath. It wasn't long before I could see the signs of his approaching orgasm. He was going to cum in his underwear, and he was going to give it to me.

I watched his crotch. I couldn't see his cock, but I knew it was there, and he was stroking it even faster now. His hips began to push up to meet his fist and his muscles began to tense. His legs pushed against the floor and his hips rose off the seat until he was almost horizontal. His was no longer jerking off but literally fucking his hand. A strangled moan came out of his mouth and he began to cum. Semen pushed its way through the material, gathering on the outside and running down the sides. More and more it came oozing out, gathering at the dam made by his fist and thumb.

The sweet, pungent smell of his semen floated to my nostrils and I breathed it in. I continued watching as the rest of his cum flowed easily out of his cock and into his underwear. His stroking slowed and finally stopped entirely and he held his cock still. His butt lowered once more into the seat.

His left hand grasped the base of his cock, his right hand moving to his mouth. He licked away some of the cum from his thumb and drew it into his mouth. His eyes closed again as he made an 'mmm' sound. Then his hand moved toward me and he held it out to me, offering me to share in his bounty. I shared it eagerly.

I stuck out my tongue and he moved his hand to it. I licked at him and took his cream inside me and my own moan of pleasure sounded. I was lost to him now, completely and totally. He'd worked me into a fever and I could feel my balls broiling. I licked away the rest and cleaned his hand for him as my own hand reached down and opened my jeans. I shoved my hand in my underwear, found my cock, and worked it out into the open air. I didn't care where I was. I had to cum. I stroked my own meat.

His hand moved back to his cock and carefully lifted the underwear away, folding the portion containing all his cream into a ball and holding it to my mouth. I began licking it away before using my lips and teeth to pull it into my mouth so I could suck all his juices out of his briefs.

I started cumming and he shoved his underwear against my mouth to soften my loud moans of ecstasy. My cum flew everywhere and I didn't care where it landed. I was too engrossed in the most amazing orgasm of my life.

I could feel the incredible streams of cum traveling up my cock and out the tip. I could feel it splashing against me, soaking into my shirt and jeans. I came and I came like never before, and when I was finished, I collapsed into my theatre seat in total exhaustion.

His hand moved away from my face, but left the underwear where it was. When I finally opened my eyes again, My Guy was jerking off again. I pulled his underwear out of my mouth and held it. He stroked for a long time, edging himself to another orgasm. Time and time again, he'd bring himself to the brink and suddenly choke off the climax.

At long last, he said quietly, "This time."

I've never seen his hand move so fast, and I knew I was about to see something truly amazing. I wasn't disappointed. I counted.

Four long ropes of cum shot over the seat in front of him, disappearing into the darkness and landing several rows away. Six more ropes splattered against the back of the seat in front of us. Five more smaller and weaker streams flowed out of him and dropped to the floor between his legs.

Still, his cock spasmed and bounced. It didn't go soft. His hand slowed its stroking, but didn't stop. My Guy wasn't yet finished. Soon he was jerking off again. His left hand still held his balls. He stroked and jerked and squeezed and teased himself, and then he suddenly turned to me.

"Promise me you won't do anything other than what I allow you to do."

I pulled the underwear from my mouth. "I swear I won't."

"Hold out your right hand." I did so. His left hand left his balls and grasped my wrist. He guided my palm to his balls. Their heat burned into my skin and I sucked a deep breath of air into my lungs.

His fingers folded my fingers into place around his orbs. "Don't play with them. Don't move your hand. Don't do anything unless I tell you or you won't ever touch me again."

"I swear," I told him. "Oh, God, I swear."

For the first time in my life, I was touching another man. I had his most tender parts in the palm of my hand. I was holding what people never see. I wasn't about to do anything to jeopardize this moment.

He leaned back into his seat and said, "This one is all for you." He leaned his head back, closed his eyes, and went to work. For five more minutes, he jerked off for me. "Squeeze," he said quietly as he continued stroking. I tightened my grip. Several minutes later, he said, "Harder." I squeezed harder.

More stroking followed, faster and more urgently. "Harder," he whispered hoarsely. I squeezed harder still. "One more," he said, and I complied. "That's it," he groaned.

His body stiffened beneath my hand. He aimed his cock toward his face and he came. His cum shot out in small streams, coating his chest and stomach in ribbons of white, milky semen. When the streams slowed and faded, the remainder of his cum dribbled out and onto him, gathering in small puddles on his skin.

And then he was done.

"Take your hand away."

I did that.

His eyes opened and his head tilted forward as he looked down at his chest, still heaving in and out with his breath. He looked at me. "Do you want it?" he asked, almost hopefully it seemed.

"Yes," I whispered frantically.

"Use only your tongue," he said. "Don't touch me with your hands, and don't touch my cock. The rest is yours if you want it."

He moved his cock forward as it began finally to grow softer, keeping it out of reach. I put both my hands on the armrest and leaned over him, extending my tongue. I contacted with his skin and I tasted him. Shivers of delight flew through me as I began licking him clean. I was careful to do what he'd told me to do, ever cautious of not doing the wrong thing. I did nothing more than to clean the man cream from his body. That was enough.

When I could find no more to clean up, I sat back into my seat.

My Guy looked over at me and smiled, his canines glinting in the light. "What's your name?"

"N-Naruto," I said.

"Does that come with a last name?"

"Uzumaki," I replied.

"Well, Naruto Uzumaki, no-one has ever passed the test before. When the time is right, you will touch me. And more. I promise. Can I have my shorts now?"

He began doing up his shirt as I reached for his shorts. When he was ready, I held them out to him and he slipped them over his legs and up, tucking himself away carefully and zipping them up and buttoning them.

He slid his shoes back on and tied them, then rose to his feet, ready to leave. "My name is Kiba," he said.

"Kiba?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said with that smile I adored. "Inuzuka. Thank you, Naruto," he said.

He turned and walked down the row of seats, then up the aisle and out the doorway. Only then did I look down at the drying splashes of cum on my clothes. I wasn't the least bit embarrassed about it. I would wear it proudly.


	6. Chapter 6

His name was Kiba. Kiba Inuzuka. Even his name sent blood rushing to my crotch. I can't begin to even count how many times I jerked off after our session in the theater. Kiba had been as close to being naked as you can get in a movie theater, and his orgasms had been spectacular.

He loved jerking off, and he loved to have someone watching him. I don't know if he had other victims that he chased around town, jerking off for them, but I was glad he'd picked me as one of them. Tattoos had never done anything for me. I thought they looked stupid and I was so glad that I didn't get any. Kiba changed all that. His red marks were so alluring that it's best there is now.

Still, red is not a really good color for exhibitionists. It attracts attention. People look at him because of it. Then again, maybe that's an advantage for a sexy exhibitionist. They want people to look at them, and I was a dedicated looker.

He'd let me touch him. Nothing more. Just holding his balls in my hand. That was more than I could ever have dreamt of. And then for him to allow me to lick up his cum. That was icing on a very delicious cake. But he'd promised me more if I followed his rules and passed his tests. I spent many hours after that, whacking off and thinking about what the 'more' might involve. Was I finally going to have the opportunity to actually hold a man's cock in my hand? Was I going to be able to stroke it for him? Perhaps even lick it? The mere thought of giving him a blowjob was enough to send me over the top.

Whether or not Kiba knew it, he was a dream come true for me, and he had me under his spell. I would do anything he asked of me and no more than that. I would die if I did anything to ruin what we had together.

I never saw Kiba around. I'd stopped looking, as I've said before, because he'd told me I'd never find him, but any time I saw chocolate hair, which was very often, I always took a second look. Still, Kiba was always able to find me, and at the oddest places and times.

I was bored out of my skull that night. I couldn't even concentrate on my assignments and ended up closing the books and turning on my little television set in my room. Nothing caught my interest. I considered going to the school library and thought better of it. Perhaps a walk in the park would cheer me up.

The park is only a two minute walk from my place. It's usually quiet at night, especially around ten o'clock at night. Occasionally, there might be some swimmers taking an evening dip in the river, but, more often than not, the park was usually deserted. It wasn't that night. There was a small group of young people. Probably high school students from the looks of them. Undoubtedly too broke to go out drinking.

I sat on one of the swings and watched them. I was mostly in darkness, but there was a glow from the road bridge lamps nearby and the moon above which cast light over the swimmers. There were three guys and two girls only a pebble's toss away from me. I could see their clothes piled on the beach and they were swimming in their underwear. It was still too early for the skinny dippers. They didn't come out until after the bars closed and they didn't care how close they were to the road. It was more important that they be drunk and naked.

So, I sat there, swinging slowly and gently forward and back with my feet on the ground, watching them. I didn't even hear Kiba coming up from behind me. I didn't even know he was there until he was standing beside me saying, "Hi, Naruto Uzumaki." He sat in the swing to my right.

I quickly looked around and behind me. I didn't see anyone else. My attention turned back to Kiba. He was sitting there in a thin tank top and a pair of tight black shorts.

"Shit," I whispered. "You're going to do it right here, aren't you?"

"Sure," he said. "Why not?"

"There's people right there," I whispered harshly.

Kiba looked at me and I could see his smile even in the moonlight. "That's what makes it fun."

I watched as he unsnapped his shorts and slid the zipper down. He hooked his thumbs into the waistbands and pushed both the shorts and his underwear to his feet before pulling them off. His cock, already rock-solid, smacked against his stomach. He held out his briefs to me.

"Here," he said. "They're for you. I've been wearing them all day."

I took them from him and, as I rushed them to my face, Kiba pulled his shorts back onto his feet and tugged them up to mid thigh. With his arms hooked around the chain links of the swing, Kiba grabbed his cock in his right hand and started stroking.

My own cock was hard now. It had begun to stiffen up the moment I saw Kiba. And now, with his underwear shoved in my face, it steeled up even more. I held the briefs in place with my right hand as my left hand undid my shorts and pulled down the zipper. I reached into my own underwear and moved my cock into a more comfortable position. I left my hand wrapped around my cock. Then I went back to sniffing and watching.

Kiba leaned forward a few times to spit on the head of his cock, spreading it around thoroughly each time. He wasn't the least bit phased by the five people frolicking in the water a few yards away. Then again, I was sitting there sniffing his underwear. Which one of us was the pervert?

The chain restricted the movement of his arm and, after a few minutes, he moved it to the inside of the swing and went to work on his cock again. He was in no rush, as usual. He simply sat there, jerking off and looking at the group of people playing in the water before us.

As he masturbated, and as I watched, my own hand began stroking my cock which was still tucked safely inside my underwear. I wasn't getting the pleasure I needed, though. Before I knew it, I'd pulled my cock out of my briefs and started matching Kiba stroke for stroke.

Kiba looked over at my face, then down to my crotch. He watched me jerking for a long minute, then looked back up to my face and smiled at me. He didn't say anything, but I saw him wink in the dim light before he turned his face to the swimmers in the river. His red marks seemed to glow in the light cast by the moon.

We jerked off together. My eyes were locked on the hand moving up and down that wonderful cock of his. Occasionally, I could see the glint of moonlight sparkling off the pre-cum which gathered at the tip of his cock. Several times, he dipped the index finger of his left hand into the cock juice and held it out to me, letting me lick it from his finger.

We weren't in any rush to cum. We were enjoying the experience too much. At least I was. Had I been thinking about it, I would have been humiliated, knowing that I was whacking off in public with six people around me. At that moment, though, I didn't have much choice. I was too wrapped up in the moment.

Suddenly, Kiba said softly in warning, "Naruto."

I looked up at him, then in the direction of his gaze. One of the young men was walking across the grass toward us. I covered my crotch with my hands, but Kiba kept on jerking off as if it were the appropriate thing to do.

"Hey" the boy said in a rolling rasp. "Do either of you have an extra. . ."

He didn't complete his question. He drew up short and stopped when he saw what Kiba was doing. Slowly he advanced, his eyes locked on Kiba's stroking hand and the proud cock standing out from his body, until he was standing at Kiba's feet.

"Holy, fuck," the guy said. He looked quickly over his shoulder to his friends, then back at Kiba. The boy had blood red hair and a coat of black eye liner, seeing as he came from swimming I guessed it was water proof. He was kinnda short and had a slender frame similar to mine. He wore nothing except a pair of sand-brown boxers.

Kiba looked up at him, watching his face as he continued masturbating. "Do we have an extra 'what'?" he asked calmly.

The boys gaze remained glued to Kiba's stroking hand as his own hand reached to grasp the swelling cock in his shorts. "Um. . ." he said without looking up. "Cigarette."

"Sorry, pal," Kiba apologized. "I stroke. I don't smoke."

I don't think the guy heard him. "Holy, fuck," he repeated in a murmur. Moments later, his hand slid inside his underwear. His cock was hard now and he was stroking it slowly beneath the thin material.

"Mind if I taste it?" he asked.

"Yes," Kiba replied.

"What about touching it?"

"Sorry."

He stood there, watching, for several minutes before another masculine voice called out from the river.

"Hey, Gaara! What's up, bro? They got smokes or what?"

"They don't!" Gaara called back.

"Well, what in hell are you doing over there? Come on back!"

Gaara didn't move.

"Gaara!" the voice called again and I looked up to see the larger of the two remaining men running out of the water and toward us. He, too, was dressed only in his underwear.

Kiba didn't stop stroking.

The new guy was a pretty medium build. His arms were of slightly thick size. He wasn't a muscle-bound brute, but he was very healthy indeed. His chest was large and his stomach was big, but not from fat from muscle. The purple jock he had on certainly didn't disguise the package he carried between his legs. As he came to a stop beside his friend and saw what was going on, he laughed.

"Shit, I should have known," he said. "Damn, Gaara. I know you've been curious lately, but you can't just stare at other guys cocks like this? Come on, bro. Leave them to their fun and games."

Gaara didn't move.

A female voice called out.

"What's going on over there, Kankuro!?"

The big guy turned toward the river. "Oh, we got some guy whackin' his meat over here and Gaara can't get his eyes off him."

"Really?" the girl called back.

"Yeah! Gaara's all horned up and everything! We're not gonna get him back until he dumps a load in his shorts!"

At this Gaara glared up at Kankuro and crossed his arms over his chest

There was more splashing, then the other three people were running toward us as well. Gaara appeared unaware of their arrival and continued shooting daggers at larger boy.  
Kiba merely enjoyed the attention.

The new guy looked at Kiba and said, "Wow, I do not think I have ever seen a man so…endowed."

"Yeah…," Gaara said almost sadly as he blushed.

"That's disgusting," one of the girls said as she went back to the river. "Coming, Temari?" she called over her shoulder.

"Not yet, Tenten" the second girl replied. "I want to see for a bit."

I was still covering my cock, watching the scene in front of me. The big guy, Kankuro, put his arm over his brothers shoulder. "Come on, Gaara," he said softly. "Don't do this to yourself, man. You know how depressed you get."

"I don't care," Gaara replied looking at the new guy next to him.

"Well, what do you think Lee", Kankuro said looking at the guy next to his brother.

The guy called Lee, was tall and thin, but his body definitely showed traces of muscle. "Well…um", he muttered as he ran his fingers along the elastic of his green briefs. "If Gaara wanted to try something like that, I supposed he could do it with me."

Gaara looked away from Kankuro and into his taller friend's face. "You're not serious…are you Lee?," he said. "I don't think so." He looked at Kiba again. "Besides, what if I liked it?"

"Do you think that would change our friendship?" Lee said. "I like you Gaara. I have always liked you, ever since that day in the infirmary. It does not matter if you like it, I might like it too. And I would like it even more knowing it is with you.

"I'm going back," Temari said. "You boys have fun."

"I'll join you," Kankuro said. "Looks like these boys are having enough fun without us around."

Lee's attention was still on his friend. I didn't expect the kindness and compassion from him that I was witnessing. "Gaara, please," he said. "You do not have to be alone."

Still, Gaara didn't move.

"Okay," Lee said softly. "If you need me, call me." He placed a hand on his friends shoulder, then walked away.

"Lee!" Gaara said in his same raspy voice. "Don't go."

The tall boy returned and placed his hand on Gaara's shoulder once more. Gaara moved his eyes from Kiba's crotch to the bulging crotch of his friend. His head tilted up after a short time so he could look into his friend's face.

"I need to know, Lee," he said.

"Of course," Lee said. "Would you like to go somewhere else?"

"No, I don't think I could wait any longer. I need to at least try it right now."

Lee glanced around into the darkness. "Where would you like to go?"

"I don't care," Gaara said as he reached out his left hand and cupped the bulging underwear. He glanced at his brother and other friends chatting beside the river. "Besides…I like you too."

My hand had begun stroking myself again - discretely, of course. Kiba hadn't stopped or even slowed down.

Gaara took a deep breath, looked back at Lee, then down at the hand still cupped around his friend's growing crotch. With one final glace at Lee's face, Gaara whispered, "Don't hate me, Lee."

Gaara dropped to his knees right in front of us, his hand moving away from Lee's crotch to his hip. Lee's cock was almost fully-hard now, still aimed down toward his balls and arching the material in a rather intimidating bulge. His cock wasn't particularly long, but it was incredibly thick. Gaara removed his right hand from his underwear and, with his other hand, grasped the waistband of Lee's briefs and tugged it down and under Lee's large orbs. The cock, once released, quickly flooded and stood out straight from his body before rising into the air and coming to rest almost against his stomach.

I could understand Gaara's reservations. Lee's cock was nothing to laugh at. He was uncut, too. His foreskin still covered most of the head. Gaara took the cock in his hand and tilted it toward him, tentatively and carefully stroking it up and down. He looked at the cock for a long time before looking up at Lee's face.

"I'm…not sure on what to do," he admitted.

"Whatever you can do, Gaara," Lee said quietly with a smile. "Just watch the teeth, okay?" Lee didn't seem the least bit disturbed that he was about to get a blowjob in a public park with five other people around him.

Gaara's attention returned to the large cock in front of him. He continued stroking gently. The index finger of his left hand traced the foreskin around the top of the head and a moan came from Lee's throat.

"Pull the skin back, Gaara," he said. "It will not hurt, and I am clean. I promise."

I'd never seen an uncircumcised cock before and was totally fascinated by what I was seeing. I wasn't masturbating discretely anymore.

Gaara pulled the foreskin back carefully, revealing the entire head. Lee's cock and cockhead were thick, but they were flattened on the top and bottom, more oval-shaped than round. This didn't seem to deter Gaara, though. He'd made up his mind and the fact that he was about to suck his friend's cock with Kiba and myself looking on didn't phase him a bit. In fact, I doubt if he even remembered we were there.

His head moved forward and his mouth opened. His lips touched flesh and Lee's hands found their way to Gaara's hair .

"Yes, Gaara, please do not stop," Lee whispered into the darkness. "That feels good."

What Gaara lacked in ability, he certainly made up for in enthusiasm. He was pretty-much limited to the head, but that seemed to be enough for Lee. Still, Gaara managed to use his tongue and lips to best advantage, traveling up and down the shaft when his mouth got tired on the head. His hand never left the shaft.

Gaara returned to the head, working as much of it as he could into his mouth while his left hand moved to hold Lee's balls. Beyond them, the other three people approached quietly and stood there, watching their tall friend getting sucked off by their smaller, thinner friend.

Beside me, I could hear the pre-lube popping and snapping in the slit of Kiba's cock, but I couldn't tear my eyes from the spectacle in front of me. I'd never seen a blowjob before, and I wasn't about to miss my chance this time. My hand continued to jerk myself. If anyone didn't like it, they could go fuck themselves. I wasn't stopping for anyone.

I heard the scraping of metal on metal above me and the rattle of chain beside me, but I didn't pay attention to it until I felt Kiba's hand on my right arm. He lifted my hand out of my lap and brought it toward him, palm up, until it was right under his balls. I knew what he wanted to do, and how much I wanted to do it. I gently closed my fingers around his dangling balls.

The big surprise was to follow.

With his balls in my hand, Kiba reached back to me again and wrapped his fingers around my cock. He took over the stroking, pushing my hand away. Never in my life had I felt anything so amazingly wonderful.

My orgasm began almost immediately. Only a few strokes later, I was cumming, my semen shooting out of me with a power I couldn't have imagined. I think I heard a female voice say "Ewww! Gross!", but I didn't give a shit. Nor did I give a shit where my cum went. It just felt too damned good shooting out of my cock.

Kiba might have been right-handed, but his left hand was doing some incredible things to my cock. I must have become carried away, though. I felt Kiba's fingers prying my own fingers loose from his balls. He wasn't taking them away. He was simply easing my grip.

My orgasm continued to its completion and still Kiba jerked my cock. Ahead of me, I could hear Lee moaning and groaning now, and, despite having just climaxed, I could feel another orgasm quickly building.

"Gaara," Lee said urgently, "I…I cannot last much longer!"

I opened my eyes in time to see Gaara pull his mouth away from Lee's cock and begin to stroke it instead. Each time his hand moved up the shaft, the foreskin bundled over the head, then uncovered it again on the downstroke.

Even in the dim light, I could see Lee's cockhead swelling and beginning to pulsate. The first spurt of cum shot straight out and hit Gaara squarely in the face. His head jerked back, but he didn't release his grasp on his friends cock. More cum shout out, splashing against Gaara, who made no attempt to move out of the way.

I could feel my orgasm building again. Kiba's hand was jerking madly, bringing me to my second climax in only a matter of minutes. As Lee finished cumming and his cock began to soften, I blew my nuts again. Cum poured out of me and ran down Kiba's fingers as they continued to grip me. From his own moans, I knew that he was enjoying his own orgasm.

I forced my eyes open and turned my head. Kiba's cock was aimed right at the two boys in front of him. Long ropes of his cum flew out of his cock, splattering against both bodies there. Whether or not they noticed or cared, I don't know. But they didn't move. Kiba is a powerful and abundant cummer. His jizz flew in strings, and each one hit their targets. I think he actually gained intensity knowing that he was creaming two total strangers.

Gaara, meanwhile, had taken Lee's softening cock into his mouth, cleaning it and enjoying it now that he could fit it between his lips. There was little doubt in my mind that Gaara would be servicing his friend for a long time to come.

My second orgasm came to an end, and Kiba's climax subsided. The girls had returned to the river. Kankuro remained. Even though it was his brother giving the blowjob, his dick was out of his jock. As Gaara continued sucking on Lee's soft cock, Kankuro started creaming him from the other side.

He was a loud cummer and his voice echoed through the park, bouncing off the trees and back to our ears. Someone out on the street shouted, "He scores!"

Lee pulled his cock from Gaara's mouth, lifted him to his feet, and grabbed his cock in his hand. In a matter of moments, Gaara had his own well-deserved orgasm, shooting his semen on the sand of the play area.

I admired Lee for that. It took a true friend to help out Gaara in such a way in front of friends and strangers. Even though Gaara had finished shooting, he continued to hold his softening cock in his hand, stroking it slowly.

When everything was tucked back into place, Lee put his hand on Gaara's shoulder again. "Do you have your answer?"

Gaara nodded.

"So do I." And with that Lee put a finger under Gaara's chin, tilted his head up, and kissed him softly. The semen on Gaara's face smearing on his own

"Well look at my little bro now, looks like he finally has someone to satisfy his "cravings", Kankuro remarked with a chuckle.

Gaara broke the kiss to glare at Kankuro once again. Lee simply smiled and with his hand still on Gaara's shoulder led him back towards the river. Kankuro striding behind.

"Wait until Hinata hears about this", Tenten said pulling out her cell phone.

I suddenly became aware that Kiba's hand was no-longer on my cock. When I looked at him, he wasn't there. The swing was empty.


	7. Chapter 7

Just down river from where I live, a few blocks away, a long, blue, metal footbridge spans the river. Beyond the bridge, a stone's throw away, is a dam. It's a nice place to go if you want to get away from the city noise, even though you're surrounded by it. At night, you can walk to the center of the bridge and be alone in a city of tens of thousands. Except for the occasional passer- by, you're all alone with the river and the sounds of the water rushing over the dam.

The bridge is metal, but the walkway is made of wood. It echoes nicely when you cross it and you can feel the bridge moving beneath you. I like going there, especially at night when I have trouble sleeping. It calms me. Takes my mind off my troubles and worries.

I don't know how Kiba found me there that night. I didn't ask. I often walked down there at night, though, so I suspected he just knew. I took my favorite spot between two of the tall lamps which lit the bridge with a soft, dull glow. I always faced upriver with the sounds of the water flowing over the dam behind me.

I felt the bridge shaking slightly as it always did when someone was walking on it. I wasn't alarmed. People often used the bridge to get to the other half of the city on the other side. I didn't even look up to see who was approaching until he stopped and leaned against the bridge rail beside me.

"Hi, Naruto Uzumaki," he said as he looked out over the dark river.

"Hey, Kiba," I replied.

Kiba looked at the river. I looked at Kiba. We stood there in silence for a long time before he spoke again. He didn't look at me. He simply spoke to me.

"You turn me on," he said.

"Me?" I said, surprised.

I could see his lips curl up into a smile even in the dim light. "Yes, you," he said with a slight chuckle. "I've got a hard on right now like you wouldn't believe."

I glanced down at his crotch, but I couldn't see anything in the darkness.

He chuckled again and I could see his body shaking. "You're looking, aren't you?"

"Yes," I said.

Another chuckle. "That's what turns me on. You like looking at me and I like you looking at me."

"Shit," I whispered. I continued looking at Kiba and he continued looking out over the river. "I need to ask you a question."

Kiba merely nodded slightly.

"Not to be rude or anything, but what is with those red markings on your face?"

He shook his head and smiled again. "No no your okay. It's kind of a long story. But the short version is that it has to deal with unity in my family. In my family, children are given these markings as soon as they turn one, we wear them to bind us together as one family, as one clan. And even though it may make me look weird or crazy, I wear my markings proudly knowing that I am a member of a great clan, the family Inuzuka.

Before I could respond, he continued. "But, unfortunately I did have to cover them up for a short time. I knew my marks would easily draw your attention, so I had to cover them up with a bit of stage make-up in order for me to covertly follow you for three weeks."

"I didn't even see you until you came in with your red marks."

"I made sure you didn't."

"So, what were you doing, trailing me for three weeks?"

"I wanted to be certain."

"About what?" I asked.

He looked at me then. "I wanted to be certain you turned me on, and to be certain that I would turn you on, too."

"How did you know?"

"I just knew," he replied. "Leave it at that." He looked back out over the river once more. More silence followed before he said, "You can put your hand in my back pocket if you want."

"I do," I said in a hushed whisper. "How far? What do you want me to do?"

"As far as you want. Just keep your hand flat, but don't do anything."

I looked at his ass. That I could see plainly enough. It was a nice ass, and I was dying to touch it, even if it was through the pocket in his jeans. The fingers of my left hand moved to the opening of the pocket, carefully keeping my palm flat. My hand slid inside until it hit the bottom. The heat from his ass warmed my hand and I moaned softly.

"Yeah," Kiba said. "I like that. Keep your hand there."

I couldn't think of anything that would make me want to take it away. I'd had his balls in my hand, and now I had his ass in my hand. Bit by bit, I was touching a man's body. His was so solid, yet so soft and so round. My cock was throbbing and began to pinch against the waistband of my underwear. I shoved my hand beneath the waistband of my pants and shifted my cock so it was more comfortable for me.

Unfortunately, the angle of my hand in his pocket was uncomfortable and my wrist was bent, almost painfully. I tolerated it as long as I could and, regretfully, began to slide my hand out.

"You can leave it there," Kiba said. "I like your hand there."

"I'm sorry, Kiba. I can't. It hurts my wrist."

"Move closer if you want."

I pushed my hand back in and moved forward as far as I dared go. I was afraid to get too close to him that he would move away.

"Better?" he asked.

"A lot better," I said.

"You can move closer if you want."

"I'd be right up against you if I do."

He turned to look at me. Our faces were barely a hand-span apart. "That's okay, Naruto," he said. "I'd like to feel how much I turn you on."

I remained frozen in place for several long, empty moments. I couldn't move. "I won't push you away, Naruto," he said softly. "As long as you just press up against me, I won't push you away."

It took me several more long moments before I could will my feet to move. I took a tiny step forward and my chest touched his shoulder and I stopped again.

"All the way, Naruto."

Again, I edged forward, my chest pressing against his side, and then my cock pushed against his right hip. My eyes closed and a long groan escaped my throat. I could feel his breath on my face and I breathed it in. It was sweet and dreamy and it made my cock swell against his hip.

My eyes opened and Kiba was looking into them. He had a smile on his face. "I made the right choice," he said and turned back to the river once again.

I was feeling more of Kiba than I've ever felt of any man - at least in a sexual nature. My heart was pounding in my chest and my breath was rapid and short. I was clenching my jaws just to keep from cumming right there and then. I didn't want this moment to end.

But it did. I hadn't heard the footsteps on the wooden planks. I hadn't felt the gentle quivering of the bridge. It was the small dog barking which caught my attention. I pulled away from Kiba and yanked my hand out of his pocket as my head whipped around. An older man, perhaps thirty or so, was striding toward us, a small white dog tugging on the leash.

"Put your hand back, Naruto," Kiba said.

"I. . . No, not. . ." I stammered as I turned my head back to him. He was still looking at the river.

"Put it back."

"Kiba, please."

He turned his head to look at me. "If you love me, Naruto, you'll put your hand back in my pocket."

Love? What was this? If I love him? Who said anything about love? Kiba had stirred up a lot of emotions in me, but I didn't think love was one of them. I quickly searched my mind looking for any indications of it and I found them. Maybe I didn't love him yet, but I was well on my way.

"Put it back, Naruto."

I heard the footsteps drawing closer. My hand went behind him again and slid into his pocket.

Another smile spread across his face. "Now," he whispered, "kiss me."

"Kiba, please," I begged. "Not now. Not here."

His smile disappeared. "It's now or never, Naruto. You'll never get another chance. I won't make this offer again."

"Kiba," I protested weakly.

Kiba held my gaze. "Kiss me, Naruto," he said softly.

Everything told me not to, but I did it anyway. I leaned into him, tilting my head to one side, until our lips met. The kiss was gentle and I wasn't very good at it, never having kissed a man before, and there was more anxiety than passion in it. But it was the most exciting moment of my life. My body moved against his once more and I felt suddenly comfortable there. I could feel Kiba's moan vibrating his lips.

"Aw, fuck! What is this shit?" the man said as he stopped beside us. His dog was sniffing our ankles. "Do you guys have to do that in public? You're giving me nightmares."

Kiba slowly withdrew his lips from mine and turned his body to face me. His head turned to look a the man, then down to the dog at our feet before returning to the man's face. "I would advise removing your dog from my vicinity, please," Kiba he said.

"I should sic him on you," the man said with contempt in his voice."

"Then I hope your dog can swim after I break his fuckin' neck," Kiba said calmly. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm not finished kissing my boyfriend yet." He turned back toward me and pressed his lips against mine again.

"Fuck this shit," the man said as he began to walk on. "Come on, now!" I could still feel the dog at my feet. "Come on!" There was the sound of a yank on the leash, then a loud yelp, and they were gone.

Kiba didn't stop kissing me. He turned toward me. His arms came around my waist and tugged me forward. I was pressed against his chest. My heart pounded against his. I could feel his cock pressing into my stomach.

I suddenly broke the kiss, "Kiba you weren't really going to hurt that dog right?", I said breathing rapidly.

"Of course not," he replied, with the same shallow breathing, "He reminds me too much of my own."

"What?", I asked. But before I could say anything else Kiba shut me up with another powerful kiss.

Without thinking, my right hand moved around him and slid into his other jeans pocket. I suddenly realized that I might have broken all the rules and pulled my hand back out. Kiba yanked his head away. "No, Naruto," he said. "It's okay now."

My hand slid back into his pocket as his lips latched onto mine again. His pelvis soon began humping itself against me and mine soon joined in. I was too far gone to worry about rules and tests now.

Our kiss became more urgent and passionate as we figured out how to do it. Our lips crushed each other and our teeth clicked. Our tongues danced with each other as the humping continued.

I started moaning and Kiba began groaning. I could feel the stirrings in my balls and I knew I was moments away from climax. My hands grasped at Kiba's ass, pulling his crotch into me as I pushed mine against his. My moans turned into groans and I twisted my mouth away from Kiba.

"Aw, fuck, Kiba. I'm going to cum!"

"So am I," he replied as he clutched me even harder. "When you shoot, so will I. I'll wait for you."

And he did. Somehow, he did. My fingers dug into his ass. "Oh, fuck, Kiba. I'm cumming. I'm cumming, Kiba! Oh, fuck! I'm cumming!"

Never have I felt an orgasm so mind-numbingly intense. I may have screamed. I'm not certain. All I know is my cum pumped out in amounts and power like never before, and Kiba was pumping right along with me. His own orgasm fuelled the intensity of mine and I began to go weak and sag against him. My mind swirled and everything disappeared around me in a misty fog. I couldn't stand up anymore.

Kiba grabbed me harder as our orgasms finally slowed and I began to sink to the wooden planks beneath me. My hands slid limply from his back pockets. Kiba held onto me, lowering me gently to the bridge, the remnants of his orgasm forgotten. "Oh, shit, Naruto," he said anxiously. "Don't do this to me, Naruto!" He leaned me against the wire fencing. His hand came to my chest over my heart, and then his ear was pressed against me there. I knew it was happening. I could hear it and feel it over my heaving breaths, but I couldn't respond to it.

He sat up and began patting my cheek with his fingers. "Shit, Naruto, look at me! Damn it! Look at me!"

My eyes cracked open. I was sitting on the deck of the bridge, propped against the railing. Kiba was sitting cross-legged beside me, one hand on my shoulder, the other against my cheek. A smile split my lips.

A wave of relieve swept over Kiba's face.

"I think I love you, Kiba," I said softly.

He sat back, taking his hands away from me. "It's about time," he said into the night.


	8. Chapter 8

I still sat on the footbridge. Kiba still sat cross-legged in front of me, still leaning back on his hands. He was smiling at me, exposing those canines I'd become so fond of.

"So, you think you love me," he said. "When will you know for sure?"

"As soon as I know you won't punch my face in for saying it."

Kiba's smile turned into a chuckle which bounced across the river below us. "I'll never hit you, Naruto," he said. He sounded very sincere. "Never."

I paused, looking deeply into his eyes for anything which might tell me he was tricking me. I could find nothing. "Then I love you, Kiba."

He nodded and his smile returned. "That's good, 'cuz I love you, too," he said. "I always have." His hand returned to my cheek for a moment before sliding around to the back of my head. He leaned forward and pulled my head toward him. Our lips met in a kiss again.

It was a gentle kiss this time and it surprised me how good it felt. It wasn't sexy. It wasn't erotic. It just felt good. The kiss could have lasted longer - at least I wish it had - but Kiba sat back again and smiled at me. "Can you walk?"

"Oh, I think so," I said, grinning stupidly.

Kiba rose easily to his feet, reached out his hand for mine, and took it when I extended my hand out to him. He pulled me to my feet. "Come on," he said.

We walked hand-in-hand across the bridge away from the city lights. We turned left and walked along the river bank. There were no lights there, only the glow from the city across the river. Somewhere to our right was a path I had walked before. I knew where it went. We talked quietly as we walked.

"What was all that about with the make-up and stuff?" I asked. "Why did you disguise yourself like that?"

"You have to ask?" he chuckled. "Look at me? It's tough to be inconspicuous when your brandishing two, large, red facial tattoos." He paused a moment or two before continuing. "The first time I saw you was at the food court in the mall. I sat three tables away from you so I could see you, but you were too busy reading _Stephen King_ to even notice me.

"After that, you bought a orange shirt that I've never seen you wear, and you took the school shuttle bus out to the campus. I sat across the aisle from you on the bus and followed you into the library. If it hadn't been for _Stephen King_, I'm sure you would have seen me."

Kiba squeezed my hand. "You sat at your spot at your table and I stood in the stacks where I could see you. I've always been gay, but I've never done anything with a guy. I've always been too afraid to. That's why I jerk off all the time."

"Out in public where people can see you?" I could feel myself getting another hard-on as it rubbed against the cum-soaked underwear. I reached down in the dark and I could feel the moistness in jeans. My cum was starting to soak through.

Kiba laughed at my question. "Yeah, well, it's fun. I've been doing it for years. Remember the usher in the theater? He was the first to see me. I was in the theater watching some movie with Jesse Metcalfe. I've always liked him. I got a hard-on watching him and there wasn't anyone around me, so I took out my dick and started whacking away. I'd been at it about ten minutes when I felt something bump my shoulder. I turned around and the usher was sitting behind me, leaning against my seat and looking over my shoulder. I panicked and tried to hide, but he said it was okay as long as he could watch. If I didn't let him, he said he'd call the police."

Kiba shoved his free hand down the front of his pants and rearranged his cock. Apparently he was getting turned on as well. I, too, adjusted my cock.

"I was scared to death," Kiba continued, " and didn't think I'd be able to do it, but Kotetsu, he's the usher, asked if I liked Jesse Metcalfe and when I told him 'yes', he started whispering to me and telling me all the sexy things about Jesse. He talked about his ass and his chest and he told me when to watch so I could see his cock in his jeans. Stuff like that. It made me horny as hell and I discovered I liked having Kotetsu watching me. I shot my load within five minutes. Kotetsu had to cover my mouth with his hand so people wouldn't hear me.

"I jerked off three more times during the movie and Kotetsu watched me for two of them. Before I left, he said I could do it anytime I wanted. He wouldn't tell anyone. After that, it became a game for me. I started looking for places where people might see me, but it was only guys catching me doing it that turned me on. Before I knew it, I wasn't jerking off at home anymore locked inside my bedroom. It wasn't any fun if there wasn't someone who could see me."

I sucked in a deep breath and let it out through my nose. "Okay," I said, "but that still doesn't explain the make-up and stuff."

Kiba laughed again. "It's all your fault."

"My fault?"

"You were a challenge. If you hadn't been so engrossed in that book at the food court, you would have seen me stroking my cock through my jeans. If you'd turned around when you were looking through the shirts, you would have seen me whacking off beside the Levis. I was rubbing myself again on the bus right beside you, and when you were sitting at the table in the library, I stood in the stacks watching you. That's where I finally dumped a load."

"Right there in the stacks?"

"All over the carpet" Even in the dim light, I could see his smirk. "The next day, I started following you so I could learn your schedules and hangouts. That's why I used the make-up to cover my markings. Even if you weren't looking, it wouldn't have taken you long to start getting suspicious of the guy with the red facial designs following you everywhere. Two weeks later, I jerked off at your table. I started liking you when you warned me that someone was coming. After that, I knew I could jerk off with you and you'd make sure I didn't get into real trouble."

"What if I had got up and walked away?"

Kiba shrugged. "You didn't. Anyway, I followed you after that because I liked you. I liked looking at you and I liked jerking off while I looked at you."

"You mean there have been other times that I don't know about?"

"Lots of them," he said. "But it was most fun when you were there beside me. I really started to like you, and then I started to fall in love with you. I was still scared to death, though."

We stopped walking and Kiba turned me to face him. He took my other hand in his as well.

"No-one else has ever touched me before," he said. "Some have tried, but I wouldn't let them."

"So, that's why you put me through those tests?"

He nodded. "I was so scared, Naruto," Kiba said softly. "I wanted you to touch me, and I wanted to touch you, but I was terrified. I had to make sure I could trust you."

"Hmph…well I've got another question for you," I said. "Now, when that old asshole was bothering us on the bridge, I know I heard you mention something about a dog. What was that about?"

"Yeah well…," Kiba muttered, scratching the back of his head. "I do have a dog, yeah. He means everything to me; his name is Akamaru."

Kiba then fished out his wallet from his pants pocket and pulled out a picture, showing it to me.

"Jeez Kiba! Is that a dog or a wolf?! He's huge!" In the picture it showed Kiba, smiling and waving to the camera, sitting on top of a very large, stark white dog. Akamaru looked like he was easily supporting Kiba's weight, being bigger than a motorcycle.

"Yup, that's Akamaru. I've had him for as long as I can remember. You should've seen him when he was a puppy, he was so small I could carry him around inside my coat. Maybe you'll see him one day."

"Yeah, maybe so, " I replied, still stunned.

"So, are there any other questions you wanna ask me?"

At this, Kiba snapped me out of my stupor.

"Huh…what? Oh yeah, just one. Remember when you said you were scared of me touching you because you were afraid of whether or not you could trust me?"

Kiba nodded.

"Do you trust me now?" I asked.

Kiba squeezed my hands tightly and smiled. "With my life. I love you, Naruto. You can touch me anywhere you want, anytime you want. You can do whatever you want to me now. I won't stop you. I'm not afraid anymore."

I decided to put those statements to the test and do something I had always dreamt of doing. With my eyes locked on his, I pulled my hands from Kiba's grasp and moved them to his crotch. One hand latched onto his hard cock and the other cupped the balls beneath. Kiba moved his hand toward my crotch. "No," I said. "It's your turn _not_ to touch me."

Kiba just smiled at me and relaxed. My hands moved to the waist of his pants. My fingers fumbled with the clasp and, when it was undone, my fingers grabbed onto the zipper tab and pulled it down. Kiba wasn't wearing any underwear and his cock pushed its way out of the opening and fell against my stomach. I looked down at it, pale in the dim lights from across the river. The heady smell of semen wafted its way up to my nostrils, but I found it exciting and enticing. The head of his cock was moist.

I grabbed it in my hand and slowly stroked it as I looked back into Kiba's eyes. As my left hand moved down to Kiba's balls, my right hand began jerking him off. I had stroked him only a few times when Kiba said, "That's so good, Naruto." His eyes closed and his head tilted back slightly.

I stared into Kiba's face, watching it as I stroked his cock. I could see the pleasure I was giving him and I knew that this is what I wanted to do. I had no fear anymore either. There were many things I wanted to do with Kiba, but I could do only one at a time and, at that moment, there was only one thing I wanted to happen.

Kiba opened his eyes and looked at me. "Naruto," he said, "you're going to make me cum."

"I know," I said.

His arms came to my shoulders for balance. "As good as it has always felt when I was doing it myself and you were with me, this is a hundred times better."

"Then let's go for a thousand times."

Kiba was a master at masturbation, but, after all those years of solitary pleasure, I was no slouch in that department myself. I put all my talents to work and did to Kiba what I would do to myself, except backwards. His clutch on my shoulders strengthened and his eyes began glaze over.

"Oh, God, Naruto," he said harshly, "I'm going to cum."

His eyes closed and his head fell back again as his mouth opened. A long, strangled moan sounded and I could feel his cock beginning to swell and pulsate. Then with a single grunt of pleasure, his cock exploded. His cum splattered against me, soaking into my shirt and my jeans. Shot after shot of warm semen blasted against me and the sweet smell of it filled the air around us. I could feel the cum hitting me, but I didn't move out of the way. This was what I wanted.

Kiba continued to groan as his orgasm began to slow. I moved my hand to the head of his cock so I could catch the last few, weaker spurts in my palm. I didn't want to waste a single drop of it on the grass.

I listened to Kiba's labored breathing as he entered the afterglow of his orgasm and felt his cock beginning to go limp once more. As I smeared his cum around on my palm, slowly, his grip on my shoulders began to relax and his head tilted forward and his eyes opened. His lips spread into a broad grin, canines at full view. As he watched me, I removed my hand from his cock, spread my fingers, and raised my hand to my face. I licked his sweet cream from my palm as he watched. When I could taste no more of his nectar, I wiped my hand on my shirt, leaned forward, and kissed Kiba.

I carefully tucked Kiba back into his slacks and did them up for him as he looked down at my cum-splattered shirt. "Here," he said, "let me clean you up."

As his hand started to raise upward, I stopped him. "No. I'm not ashamed of it. I want it to stay there."

Kiba walked me home. We talked about us for the most part. "Are you still going to put on your little shows for me?" I asked.

"If you want me to," he replied.

"I think it's hot, but you don't have to if you don't feel comfortable with it."

Kiba stopped me and turned me to face him. "I think it's hot, too," he said. "That's why I do it. I guess that makes me something of an exhibitionist, but I don't really care. I love jerking off and I love it even more when I know people can see me. If you don't want me to stop, I won't."

"Just don't get yourself in trouble over it."

"Naruto, Babe," he said with a small smile, "I've been doing it ever since Cal caught me in the theater. I'm horny, not stupid. I don't make people watch me, but if they see me and stick around, that's okay. If they don't like it, they walk away." His smile broadened. "Don't worry about me. I know how to stay out of trouble."

My smile joined his.

"Promise me something, though," he said to me. "If you ever feel uncomfortable about it, or want me to stop, I will."

"I'd never ask you to stop."

"I don't mean 'entirely'," he clarified. "I mean if I'm doing it somewhere that makes you uncomfortable or you think is too risky, I'll stop."

"Oh. I understand. Okay, I promise."

His palm came to my cheek and rested there for a long moment as he stared into my eyes. "I love you, Naruto."

"I love you, too, Kiba."


	9. Chapter 9

Who knew Kiba was such a romantic? I didn't, at least not until he took me to an amazing restaurant on our first date.

When I walked in I was surprised at how extravagant the restaurant was. With linen-covered tables and candles and flowers in vases and waiters in tight, black slacks and white shirts with little, black bow ties and towels over their arms. It all seemed too much.

"Kiba," I asked. "How did you afford all this?"

"Hey, nothing's too good for you, babe."

I blushed at the comment.

"Oh, good," Kiba said with a sly wink. "Izumo's here." He nodded toward a tall, handsome young man with brown hair that came down to his nose and covered his right eye. "It's your lucky night."

We were approached by a young, blonde-haired lady with a pasted-on smile. The name on her tag pinned to her breast pocket read: Ino Yamanaka. "Table for two?" she asked.

"Oh, good," I thought to myself. "She can count."

"Yeah," Kiba replied. "Can we sit over there?" He pointed to what I suspected was Izumo's section.

"Of course," the girl said as she grabbed up two menus. "Please, follow me."

As I was escorted to my table, I couldn't help but noticing all of the male-female couples dinning together throughout the restaurant. I started to feel a little self conscious thinking that Kiba and I would be the only male couple here.

As if reading my thoughts Kiba whispered with a smile, "Hey babe, don't worry about it. If they have something to say then they can deal with me."

Seeing Kiba smile like that put my mind at ease.

"But look," He said with a nod to a booth in the corner of the restaurant, "It looks like we aren't the only two guys having dinner here tonight."

I looked over where Kiba was motioning towards and stopped in my tracks. It was the Lazy Dude! The same guy I saw in the library that day I met Kiba for the first time. He was sitting in the booth with two other guys.

One, sitting across from him, was an older man. He looked familiar. I think he might've been a teacher at the school. He had a neatly trimmed beard, a single hair line that went all the way around his face. He wore a grey sweater vest over a white-collared work shirt with a tie, and he had the sleeves rolled up to reveal very broad, toned biceps.

The other, was sitting right next to Lazy Dude, and looked about his age. He was very large, it looked like he might have been over weight. His long, bushy, brown hair swayed back and forth as he was scarfing down the food at their table.

I was close enough that I was able to hear their conversation.

"Come on Shikamaru, eat up," the guy sitting across from the Lazy Dude said.

"Eh…," murmured Lazy Dude, whom I'm guessing was the one called Shikamaru, "I'm really not in the mood, Mr. Sarutobi."

"Nonsense!," the man across from Shikamaru barked, "And I told you, call me Asuma. You deserve this meal after what an amazing job you did at the tournament, Shikamaru. Your skills at shogi are nothing like I've ever seen before."

"Ehhh the entire thing was so boring. All I wanted to do today was sleep and stare at the sky…"

"Now I know where I've seen that man from," I thought to myself, "He's an Algebra and Calculus teacher at school, and he's also in charge of the shogi team."

"Well, whatever you say," replied Asuma. "But like I told you, I didn't mind treating you to dinner. And while we're on the subject on dinner, I have no Idea how your friend tagged along."

The large guy sitting next to Shikamaru seemed unphased by the comment and continued eating, but it did look like he was picking up the pace.

"It's like I told you," Shikamaru muttered. "When you mentioned free food while Choji was right next to me in the hall, there was no way he could resist."

Just then as Shikamaru was lazily looking around the restaurant, he met my gaze. As he looked directly at me, his eyes started to squint like he was concentrating, then they opened suddenly in surprise, and he ducked under the table.

The guy called Choji finally stopped eating and looked down at Shikamaru's sudden reaction. "Hey, what's wrong Shikamaru?" he asked.

"Ugh…what a drag not them again."

"Huh? Who?," Asuma and Choji both asked in unison, scanning around the restaurant for who he was talking about.

Just then, before they could figure out who he meant, our hostess came up to me and asked, "Is everything alright, Sir?"

"Ah y-yes," I sputtered. "Just admiring the lovely décor."

She led us to a table near the back wall, but Kiba pointed to another nearby. "I prefer this one," he said.

"Of course."

We walked to the table and Kiba slid into the chair against the wall. I was about to sit across from him, but he indicated the chair to his right and said, "The view is better from here." I took the chair to his right as the girl set the menus in front of us and returned to her post. I immediately heard the sound of a zipper being undone.

"Shit," I whispered, "you don't waste any time, do you?" From where I was sitting, I could see Kiba opening his tan slacks and pulling his cock into the open.

"Free dessert if I get a hardon before Izumo gets here," Kiba winked as he started working his cock into an erection. "I've never had to pay for dessert yet."

Sure enough, Kiba was smiling and casually stroking away at his hardon by the time Izumo arrived. He didn't stop as Izumo stood behind the chair across from me.

Izumo smiled back at Kiba. "Service with a smile," he said in a deep, manly voice. "Just the way I like it. I see you found a friend who enjoys the sideshow as much as I do."

"He's more than a friend," Kiba said, still smiling and still jerking. "This is our first date."

"Well," Izumo said happily, "this calls for a celebration. How about a bottle of the house wine? My treat."

Kiba looked at me and I nodded. "Sure," he said to our waiter.

Izumo looked down at Kiba's stroking hand once more and his tongue poked out slightly and licked along his lips. He took a quick glance around the restaurant and, with what looked like a well-practiced and not unexpected move, extended his index finger, reached quickly into Kiba's lap, scooped up the precum gathered at the tip of his cock, and raised his finger to his mouth where he licked the liquid from his fingertip.

He calmly took our orders, then, with another glance around, scooped one more pool of precum from Kiba's cock and lapped it up. "You'll call me when you're ready?" he asked.

"Whenever you are," Kiba replied.

"How about when I bring dessert?"

"Sure," Kiba said.

"Better yet," Izumo said suddenly as he reached into his pocket, "how about right now and another one when I bring dessert?" He quickly and casually dropped a pair of black briefs in Kiba's lap.

Kiba stroked furiously with his right hand as his left hand arranged the briefs over his stomach. He placed his hand flat against his stomach, holding the briefs in place with his little finger. A dozen strokes later, he looked at Izumo. "Count it down," he said.

This had obviously happened before. Izumo began the countdown. "Five. . . Four. . . Three. . . Two. . . One. . . Blast off."

Kiba did. At the final words, his hand froze in place and his cock blasted out stream after stream of cum, all over the black briefs. His cum was starkly white against the black material. I was too busy watching his orgasm to notice if anyone was watching us.

Kiba was enjoying every moment as I counted the spurts. Six. Seven. Eight. The briefs were coated in his cream as the final dregs gathered at the tip and were squeezed out by Kiba's adept fingers.

As he gradually calmed down, Kiba folded the briefs in half, trapping his cum inside, and discretely handed them back to Izumo, who quickly tucked them into his pocket once more.

"You want the next load on the tablecloth as usual?" Kiba asked.

"Maybe under the table this time," Izumo said with a smirk. "I like the way it drips down."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," I said thinking back to that first day.

"You got it," replied Kiba.

Izumo left to get our wine and dinner. Kiba didn't bother zipping up.

"Holy, shit," I said in an astounded voice. "How many fans do you have?"

"Enough," he replied. "When you've been showing off for as long as I have you tend to get a few dedicated lookers."

Izumo returned a few minutes later with our bottle of wine, opened it, and poured out two glasses for us. He looked at Kiba and winked. "Delicious," he said, then left us to get our dinners.

"What was that all about?" I asked.

"Remember what you did with my underwear in the theater?"

I leaned toward Kiba and whispered to him. "You mean he took it back there and sucked the cum out?"

Kiba nodded. "That's why I was a bit surprised to hear him wanting me to waste it on the table."

Kiba served us our dinners and we ate and sipped our wine, chatting as we did so. Kiba ate with his right hand and kept himself hard with his left hand. When he was finished eating, he leaned back in his chair, stretched his legs out under the table, and began some serious stroking, getting himself worked up for his second orgasm of the night. The lube started popping and snapping in his piss slit.

Kiba was well under way by the time Izumo returned to clear our table.

"Excellent," he said quietly as he gathered the dishes. "I love it when I can hear you."

Izumo finished piling the dishes on the tray. "I'll be right back with your dessert."

"Yours will be ready as well," Kiba grinned, canines flaring.

Izumo looked at me. "He's quite the tease, isn't he?"

"He definitely keeps life exciting," I replied.

Izumo left. Kiba stroked. I waited. Kiba looked at me. "You'd better sit back a bit," he said in a whisper. "I don't know where this one is going to go."

I slid my chair back until the tablecloth was dangling before my knees. As Izumo returned and set out our desserts, Kiba let out a soft moan and closed his eyes until only a sliver of white showed through. I knew he was cumming from the flexing of his biceps and his heaving chest. Once more, the scent of his thick semen surrounded us and the slap slap slap of his hand on his cock sounded lightly. Izumo moaned louder than Kiba did, pressing his crotch into the back of the chair in front of him.

"Beautiful," Izumo whispered. "Just beautiful."

A broad smile spread across Kiba's face and his eyes opened slowly. I glanced around the restaurant. None of the other diners appeared to have noticed a thing although one other waiter was looking our way and shaking his head slightly. He had long brunette hair and stormy grey eyes, that reminded me of that girl I met a few weeks ago while I was sitting by the campus river. Kiba noticed my gaze and followed it.

"Oh, don't worry about that creep," Kiba said. "He's just jealous because I never sit in his section."

"Kiba knows an appreciative audience when he sees it," Izumo said.

All I could do was to shake my head as I carefully slid my chair forward so I could eat my cake. One thing was certain, though. My life had become a lot more exciting since I met Kiba. The cock throbbing in my pants was proof of that.


End file.
